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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22654372">Heartbreak II</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceboy/pseuds/spaceboy'>spaceboy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Fallen Hero Series - Malin Rydén</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, M/M, Seriously there is nothing nice here, Suicide, sex mention</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-02-10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-04-28 14:33:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/22654372</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceboy/pseuds/spaceboy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sidestep's villainous mission is complete and the Rangers are dead or down for the count, except for Steel. Sidestep's final goal is to convince Steel to kill him, despite their relationship.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sidestep/Steel (Fallen Hero)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. It's Over.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>First, MOST IMPORTANT, Note: I'm not fucking kidding, there is no good ending here and the whole thing is about suicide. If that isn't going to be good for you to read, PLEASE DON'T READ IT.</p>
<p>Second Note: I did write this with OPTIONS, so rather than clicking straight to the next chapter, click on the link for the option you choose.</p>
<p>Third Note: I wrote this with my own Sidestep (Sam Becerra) in mind, but with a couple of exceptions, most of it is vague enough that you are welcome either to read it as fic about my specific character or to swap out those details and pretend it's about any (male) Sidestep.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s over. Your mission is complete -- and if all your friends have gone down fighting -- fighting <em> you </em> -- it’s their fault for refusing to <em> listen </em> -- and it’s not like you didn’t monologue enough about it, how could none of them have paid enough attention to figure it out? If they’re all dead -- and you hope they’re not <em> all </em> dead, but you can’t hear any of their thoughts anymore however hard you strain so they must be, except maybe Ortega -- if they’re all dead it’s their own fault for being so blind that they couldn’t see what was going on right under their noses. You were right there all along, and none of them were able to stop you, and you wanted, <em> so badly </em>, for them to stop you, and it’s not your fault they didn’t. </p><p>But they’re <em> not </em> all dead. You’re standing on what’s left of the guardrail at the edge of the bridge, surveying the devestation, when the wreckage in front of you begins to shift. A car door thrown out of the way, a fallen strut rolled aside, and Steel fights his way out from under the pile of steaming, shredded metal. His armor is badly damaged, one shoulder is crumpled in far enough to have destroyed the joint beneath, if it hadn’t been the shoulder he’s already had replaced. He’s limping, but he’s still moving. He’s still coming for you.</p><p>You’re in worse shape than he is. The readout at the side of your vision is full of flashing red alerts. Your power is almost gone. Argent ripped off your left glove sometime during the fight, and you can hear the tiny confused voices of the Rat King out there somewhere. They’ll be okay. Mortum will track them down; they’re too valuable to let them get dumped with the rest of the rubble. Finally, your most valuable asset has always been your mind, and your mind is worn to threads. You’ve fried your psychic circuits. You’ve got maybe one good hit left in you, and that’s nothing against Steel, even a Steel as damaged as this. It’ll be over in seconds.</p><p>And you are so, so relieved. </p>
<hr/><p>There’s not much point in scanning for his intentions. He’s not built for speed on his best days, and today all he can do is raise a blaster in his bad arm -- you flinch in sympathy, that’s gotta hurt -- and ready the good one for a punch, and wait for your move.</p><p>You dodge the blaster shot and channel the last of your suit’s power into the jump jets, putting the maximum force behind you as you leap forward and strike straight at Steel’s head. </p><p>He blocks faster than you anticipated, and brings his hand back around from the block into a back-fist straight to the face-plate of your helmet. </p><p>You go flying, straight into those last fragments of guardrail, and slump to the ground. The flashing lights at the corner of your vision go dark. The last of your suit’s power is gone and full weight of the armor drops on you. You know you’re not going to make it back to your feet, not with all this to carry, but you try anyway. You only make it up to your knees. </p><p>That seems fitting.</p><p>Steel takes the last few limping steps to stand over you. This is it. This is how it’s supposed to be. You always knew it had to be him. But he doesn’t raise his weapon. He reaches out, puts his hands on the sides of your helmet, and for an instant you flash back to his hands on your face as he kisses you, before you realize what he’s doing. He’s going to remove the helmet.</p><p>Fuck.</p><p>At the beginning you had fantasized about the moment you would unmask yourself in front of all of them. It was supposed to be a moment of triumph, a moment to gloat in their shock and horror, to mock them for having allowed you to manipulate them, to make them trust you, even love you. </p><p>But it went too far. With Chen, at least, it has gone too far, and you can’t let him find out, you can’t live for even the little time you have left knowing how badly you have hurt him. You wrap your hands around his wrists desperately, trying to pull them away but with no chance of success. You did the same thing once as he fumbled with the buttons of his dress shirt, and he let you move his hands away so you could help him, but you are an eternity away from that quiet moment in the locker room. Your weak grasp does nothing to deter him. He presses the latch and lifts the helmet off your head.</p><p>As he looks at you, you have a sudden flash of what you must look like from the outside. How pathetic, usually wild hair plastered to your head with sweat, face white with nausea and smeared with blood, blue eyes dim and desperate and squinting against the sudden light. And then all you see is him. How his face is briefly a blank slate of confusion, or of refusal to understand, before it crumples in grief.</p><p>“Sam?” His voice breaks, and your heart breaks with it.</p>
<hr/><p>
  <a href="#section0002">You tell him the truth — "I'm so sorry."</a>
</p><p><br/>
<a href="#section0003">You feign triumph — “You were right not to trust me!”</a>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. "I'm So Sorry."</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>You can’t stand to look at his face anymore, so you drop your eyes to the ground and stare fixedly at a single shard of yellowed glass from a fractured headlight. “I’m so sorry,” you say. It’s not enough, it will never be enough, but you have to tell him. “I’m so sorry,” again as if saying it again could make it mean anything more. “ I never meant to get so close, I never meant to mean anything to you, I never meant for you to mean anything to me, it just happened and by then it was too late and -- and I’d already started this and I wanted to stop but once I started I -- I couldn’t -- I couldn’t stop.” You’re not sure when you started crying, but you can’t stop that either, and it’s not pretty, and wiping your nose on the arm of your armor accomplishes absolutely nothing to fix it. </p><p>You risk a glance up. Chen hasn’t moved, he’s only standing there, arms limp at his sides, eyes fixed on your face. This isn’t right, this isn’t what you need from him. You meet his eyes finally and don’t let yourself look away, even though you can barely see through the distortion of tears still welling in your eyes. “I need you to stop me. Please. You were supposed to be the one who could do it. I need you to put me down.”</p><p>Even as you say it, you understand for the first time that he’s not going to do it, and what’s more, that you don’t deserve to ask him to. It’s too much to ask. He’s been through too much already, And you’ve made everything so much worse for him, for the one person you’ve loved. You’re just one more heartbreak he doesn’t need. After everything you’ve put him through, you can’t put this responsibility on him too. This is on you. This has always been on you.</p><p>The understanding gives you the strength to do what you couldn’t do before. You look at him one more time, memorizing the creases and scars of his face, as you gather all your strength for one last move. It’s just enough, just barely enough, to throw yourself backward, away from the remnant of guardrail through the gap where there is only sky, and water far, far below it.</p><hr/><p>
  <a href="#section0004">You fall.</a>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. “You Were Right Not To Trust Me!”</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the split second you have to think as he removes the helmet, you decide that the only way to protect him is to lie. After all, that’s what you’ve been doing all along; why stop now? If he knows how much this hurts you, it will only hurt him more. If he thinks he meant nothing to you, then he won’t be losing as much when he kills you.</p><p>You force your face into a twisted grin and let out a chaotic, half-sobbing burst of laughter. It sounds weak, empty and tinny, since you usually only hear your own laughter through your voice distorter. “You were right,” you announce, keeping the smile plastered to your face, keeping your teeth bared. “You were right all along. You never should have trusted me. I thought you might ruin everything, I thought were the one who would call my bluff, and instead you -- instead you <em> fell for me!” </em>You break up into laughter again as you finish the sentence, and this time there’s something genuine in it. When everything is this much of a mess, what can you do but laugh? </p><p>Chen, though, isn’t doing anything but looking at you. That’s not right. He’s supposed to draw a weapon, or hit you, or <em>something</em>. Clearly you’re not hitting hard enough. Or <em>low </em>enough.“I fed you <em>such</em> a load of bullshit and you just <em>ate it up</em>. And you ate me <em>out</em>, too, <em>that</em> was an unexpected bonus.” You lick your lips lasciviously, and --</p><p>-- and he swings, and it’s not planned, it’s just a reaction, and so the blow hits harder than he planned. He hadn’t counted on your total lack of resistance, or on the dead weight of your armor to increase your momentum going as you fly backward, away from the remnant of guardrail through the gap where there is only sky, and water far, far below it.</p><hr/><p>
  <a href="#section0004">You fall.</a>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. You Fall.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>In the moment before you go over the edge, you see Chen lunge forward to stop you from falling. Any of the others could have done it, but Chen’s bulky armor is designed for protection and firepower at the expense of speed and agility, and he is too slow to get to you in time. You tumble over the edge and the wind rushes by and your stomach lurches. From this height the impact of hitting the water will be no different from hitting concrete, and the broken armor will drag you down. They won’t be able to save you this time. It takes four seconds to fall from this height. That doesn’t sound like much, but it’s longer than most people realize. Long enough to feel . . . </p><hr/><p>
  <a href="#section0005">. . . peace.</a>
</p><p>
  <a href="#section0006">. . . regret.</a>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Peace.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Four seconds may not sound like much, but it’s plenty of time to feel peace. This is the way it’s supposed to be. You don’t have to fight anymore, be afraid anymore, hurt anyone anymore. Your mission is over. Chen will be better off without you. The Farm can’t get you now. You’re finally free, and a moment later, it’s all over.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Regret</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Four seconds may not sound like much, but it's plenty of time to feel regret. Chen so clearly didn’t want to hurt you, even knowing what you were. Was there a chance of forgiveness? Was there a chance you could have been happy, even after everything you’ve done? You regret that you’ll never know. You wish you were back on the bridge. You wish you could undo this. And a moment later, it’s all over.</p>
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